At the desk, 6:00 a.m.
Have you noticed how "rogue" has become a key word in Hollywood? Every movie that includes intelligence officers seems to include at least one rogue agent. (And really, how intelligent is it to have a profession that seems to have zero exit strategy? But I digress.)
We call it bored, lazy author syndrome. "Here's what we'll do, we'll have a rent-a-soldier who goes rogue or a CIA agent gets burned and goes rogue or a Homeland Security agent goes rogue or a Black Ops (really? Black Ops?) agents family dies and they go rogue or..."
There is a Marvel character named Rogue. (She's the girl in the X-men with the cool white streak in her hair.) Rogue Pictures makes some interesting and unusual movies. (They even have a Twitter account.) There's even a movie named Rogue (about an alligator who goes rogue, no less.) A vehicle called Rogue. (Do you think it's only driven by rogue alligators?)
Unfortunately, the meaning of rogue is much less interesting. In fact, according to Dictionary.com, Rogue means:
1. a dishonest, knavish person; scoundrel.
2. a playfully mischievous person; scamp: The youngest boys are little rogues.
3.a tramp or vagabond.
4. a rogue elephant or other animal of similar disposition.
5. Biology . a usually inferior organism, especially a plant, varying markedly from the normal.
While I do love the words knave and scamp, rogue has taken on a darker form in modern usage. I mean really, it's hard to think of a 'rogue agent' as really just a scoundrel agent.
Anyway, all of this thought came about because we have a circuit in our kitchen that's gone... um... rogue.
No, I don't mean that the circuit has become a scoundrel. It's more mischievous. In the middle of the rush of getting breakfast done and the husband out the door, this circuit will decide to blow willy-nilly. Now, it's true that we live in a more than 100-year-old house. But we have replaced the electricity. I mean, we might be crazy enough to live in this old place, but we're not stupid.
The circuit just started to go rogue a couple of months ago. But honestly, it could be six or seven months because I've been in writing coma. I'm just waking up to my life. And this morning I discovered the fact that this circuit blows almost every day, sometimes twice a day.
So what should I do with my rogue circuit? Call Jerry the chain-smoking electrician who inhabits the comic book I call life? Or call a ghost hunter to find out what the heck the ghosts are doing in my kitchen circuit?
Or write a story about an electrical circuit that feels neglected and under appreciated so decides to go rogue...
Hmmm.... I wonder if there's an exit strategy for electrical circuits...
That's what's on my mind as I sit down to work this morning.
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